


Swarm, Absconding

by Kaleidoscope_Soundwaves



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support Ranboo, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Set Vaguely Between the December 13th and 16th Streams, Toby Smith | Tubbo Misses TommyInnit, Tubbo like-a da bee, and yes I did update it for maximum angst based on the 16th, i love that this is a tag, id call this projection but its pretty much canon, ive been working on this for three days, read for fun bee facts, the working title for this was "tubboxed in"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleidoscope_Soundwaves/pseuds/Kaleidoscope_Soundwaves
Summary: Absconding swarm: an apiological term used to describe the mass departure of a group of honey bees from their original hive as they search for a new home. Unlike normal swarming, this sudden relocation stems from the need to escape disease, overcrowding, and infestation, rather than natural propagation.Or, a president tries and fails to keep his head above the water throughout chess games, beekeeping, and general banter. Old friends say their farewells. Muffins are eaten. Flowers are sexed. Plans are made.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91





	Swarm, Absconding

Sunlight glinted off the stained glass chess board, already scuffed from use. For a December afternoon, it wasn’t too cold, and Tubbo actually found himself wiping sweat from his brow as Fundy slid a piece into place. He turned and grinned toothily, while Ranboo warped up and down the side of the board, providing their fast-paced game with a witty running commentary.

Tubbo made a decision and nudged one of his pawns forward two steps. He bounced in place expectantly as Fundy made his response, hefting a rook over his shoulder and sprinting with it across the board. He slammed it down two spaces from the king, obliterating the horse Tubbo had moved to protect the king from an errant bishop a few moves ago.

“Take that!” The fox taunted. “Checkmate.” He crouched expectantly on his haunches.

“Check, mate!” Called Ranboo in a warped Australian accent from the sidelines.

“What? No, you didn’t...” Tubbo started. “Surely not! Not another beloved pet!”

“Oh, but I did,” Fundy cackled. “Sometimes a little horse violence is necessary. Whatcha gonna do, huh?”

Tubbo pulled his King out of harm’s way, giggling frantically.

Fundy grinned and advanced his Queen until she towered over the pawn the King was hiding behind. “Bow before female power! Your king is nothing before my queen!”

“Yeah? Well, your queen is nothing before my… other horse!” He said and slammed it down in her old place. “Neiiiiggghhh, bitch!”

“He’s whinnying, folks,” the part-Enderman narrated. “It’s getting serious!”

“Look how he insults the monarchy, everyone,” Fundy continued and pushed his rook further forward. “Cancel him. I’m cancelling him right now. Tubbo, this is me cancelling you!”

“Nooooo,” Tubbo laughed. “Come on!”

“Yessss, checkmate! Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?”

“Hold on, I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” Tubbo recalculated and ran over to his bishop, dragging it three spaces until it bumped up diagonally next to Fundy’s rook.

“Tubbo has moved his bishop,” Ranboo monotoned into an imaginary microphone, jogging along the side. “I repeat, he has moved his bishop. Budged his bishop, one could say, to the other side of the board. He is intimidating Fundy’s castle as we speak.”

“Tubbo, you-- you realize that doesn’t--.” Fundy started laughing.

“What? I’m very intimidating! Your big scary castle walls are nothing to my holy man! My man of faith!”

“It doesn’t-- Tubbo, it doesn’t work like that,” Fundy wheezed and started pushing his rook towards the King.

“Wait, no, I--.” Tubbo broke down in laughter. “I didn’t think that through-- I really thought--!”

“Tubbo has made a grave error, folks. He did, as the scientists call it, ‘a brain fart.’”

“Fundy, wait, please!”

The fox smugly tipped over Tubbo’s king and slid his rook into place. “Aaaaand touchdown!”

“That’s it, listeners, that’s game! The game is over. Finit-o. Fundy has holed the proverbial chess in one. Not a good look for President Tubbo.”

‘Nooooo,” Tubbo wailed, hanging off the bishop. “That was so stupid!”

“A ha ha ha!” Fundy jeered, tail swishing about and slapping the polished ground enthusiastically. “You practically handed me the crown!”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you, Tubbo, too busy celebrating my victory!”

“Well, well, that just makes you a big nerd then!” He spluttered. “Look at you winning at chess, oooo, I’ll bet you feel super cool, yeah?”

“Yes, actually, extremely! Ranboo, what’s that put the overall score at? Give us your minutes, minutes man.”

Tubbo stage whispered, “ _Ranboo. Tell him it’s 6 to 0 or something. Or maybe 69 to 0 ‘cause that’s the funny number. This is a presidential order.”_

“ _I don’t know about this,_ ” Ranboo whispered. “ _The results seem pretty cut and dry. I don’t know that lying would be a good start for my amateur referee career.”_

“ _I’ll give you biscuits._ ”

“Is this bribery?” Fundy exclaimed, clapping a hand to his chest dramatically. “I can’t believe our government is so corrupt!”

“Nooo, no, not at all, never.” Tubbo smiled innocently at Fundy then turned back around to Ranboo. “ _How does a full stack of biscuits sound?_ ” He tried desperately to swallow his laughter as Fundy wheezed in the background.

“ _That’s actually pretty tempting…”_

“Hold up, Ranboo, I know you’re new, but if we continue on this, ah, on this route, we’re just gonna end up with another Schlatt in office!”

The smile fell from Tubbo’s face instantly. He opened and closed his mouth, throat tightened against speech. Across from him, Ranboo frowned slightly. Tubbo fumbled for words for a moment, then picked up the bishop next to him, a smile freshly stretched across his face. “Ahaha, yes, we wouldn’t want-- now that _really_ wouldn’t be good. Alright, deal’s off, Ranboo, it’s all truth and nothing but the truth in this government from here on out.”

“Precisely!” Fundy said. “So good to see our president being all morally sound and such. Setting a role model for the kids.”

“Hoooold on, there are kids now?” Ranboo asked, finally glancing up from Tubbo. “I guess you and Dream have been getting pretty busy.”

Fundy pulled a face. “Noooo, no, no, no, no, no, no. Ranboo, be quiet, Ranboo. Can’t a man win a chess game in peace?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we seem to be in short supply of that around here.”

“Are you guys gonna help set the board back up or are you just gonna keep talking?” Tubbo asked, lining the white pawns back up.

“I, for one, didn’t even play,” Ranboo complained, scooping up one of the bishops that had rolled off the side of the board. “So I shouldn’t be cleaning up.” He picked up a couple pawns under his other arm.

“And I won, so.” Fundy shrugged.

Tubbo rolled his eyes. “You guys are unbelievable.”

A figure was making her way down the prime path, her shoes slapping at the wooden boards. “Fundy, I’ve got the stuff!” Niki chirped, a couple loaded bags bouncing on her back. She waved to the rest of the people on the gameboard and readjusted the sweater that had fallen off her shoulder. “Oh, hi there, Tubbo, hi Ranboo!”

“Hi, Niki!”

“Helloooo.”

“I was just getting some stuff for the move Fundy and I are making to Drywaters,” she said and slid the bags down off her shoulders onto the grass. “Are you all ready with your things, Fundy?”

“Yes, Niki, I’ve got it all over there.” Fundy pointed over to the bleachers. “Lemme just go get it.”

Tubbo scrunched his face up in confusion. “Wait, didn’t you two already--”

“And me,” Ranboo interjected.

“Right, didn’t you three already trek out yesterday?”

“Yes, we did, like a thousand blocks, actually,” Niki sighed and laughed softly. “But we realized when we found the place we wanted to build the new city that we didn’t have enough supplies.”

“So we’re making this a two day trip!” Finished Fundy from a distance.

“Also, I wanted to do some last minute baking,” Niki whispered conspiratorially to Tubbo.

He lit up and started bouncing on his toes. “Do I get any?”

She waved her hand. “Yes, of course you do, Tubbo. One moment.” She rifled through the picnic basket she held in her left arm and withdrew a cinnamon muffin, still warm and steaming.

Tubbo took it gently, carefully not to dislodge a single crumb. “I… thank you, Niki, this looks delicious!” He cradled it in his hands and took an appreciative bite, savoring the warmth that emanated from the baked good. His eyes went wide. “It's delicious, oh my gosh, it’s so good, thank you, Niki.”

She smiled and handed one to Ranboo, who quickly thanked her, too. “Think of it as a going away present.”

Tubbo’s smile dulled a little. He swallowed. “You’ll be back though, right? In time for Christmas?”

Niki folded the corners of the picnic blanket neatly back into place. “Definitely! I wouldn’t miss a Christmas in L’Manberg for the world.”

“Yeah, and I’m looking forward to all the presents I’m gonna get,” Ranboo said around a mouthful of muffin. “I’ll be sure to bring back cool Drywater souvenirs.”

“... You’re going too, Ranboo?”

“Yep. I mean, I did go with them on that whole journey yesterday.”

“Right, I just thought… No, nevermind.” Tubbo smiled. “I can’t wait to see the city you guys are gonna build. It’s going to be beautiful.”

“Aw, thanks, Tubbo,” Fundy said, walking back over with his bags to ruffle Tubbo’s hair. “Our nation’s already got a good head start, politically speaking, what with L’Manberg having such a sap for a president.”

Tubbo faltered at this sudden reminder that even though they all stood here together now, their futures were rapidly diverging. Between them stood an invisible national border, solidifying insidiously, with them on one side and him on the other. Fundy with his creativity, his pranks, his loyalty; Niki with her unfailing kindness, her gifts; Ranboo, his new friend and often only confidant. He'd see them again, of course, probably in a matter of days, but with Quackity focusing all his attention on El Rapids and the upcoming hunt, Tubbo suddenly felt desperately alone.

He took another bite out of his muffin and said, “At least my nation doesn’t have a furry for president.”

Fundy looked affronted. “Oh, come on now.”

“He’s got us there,” Ranboo admitted with a shit-eating grin.

Niki giggled. “Guys, stop teasing him. He cannot help that he is like this. Ranboo, you of all people should know.”

“Oh, this--” Ranboo gestured to his elongated body-- “is not the same thing at all.”

“Ranboo, keep going and I am going to demote you,” Fundy threatened, ear flicking, eyes dancing with amusement.

“Nooooo, don’t, that’s so mean,” Niki pleaded.

Ranboo made a face of fake shock. “Oh no! Fundy, what ever will I do if I can’t be… what was it? Trillion piscillion? Chancellor prancelor?” He leaned on a nearby king. “You know, if you fire me, that’ll bring the unemployment rate of Drywaters up to 33%. I don’t think that’s very good press.”

Fundy chuckled. “Oh, that is actually a very good point. I can’t have that.”

“Yes, that’s a whole one-thirds of our nation, Fundy!” Niki laughed.

Their voices faded into a jumble of light conversation. Tubbo wrapped his arms around the pawn he was carrying, sliding his hands over the smooth surface. It felt cool beneath his palms. He pressed his face against it and closed his eyes, focusing on the relief of the chess piece’s rounded design, even as the corner of its square base prodded his stomach. He held onto it tightly, as though it was his only anchor to a world that was rapidly falling apart.

If he could have any wish granted right then, it would have been to have his old green cotton shirt back. He felt too hot, too stiff, too confined in this suit. Sometimes wearing it made him feel strong, like the boy he saw in the mirror was actually capable of leading a nation. Other times, he would have sworn he felt a hand falling heavy on his shoulder, that he caught a whiff of whiskey in the air. When this happened, his shirt collar would become so viselike around his neck and his epaulets so heavy on his shoulders that he’d tear the jacket off his back and claw the top buttons of his shirt open, gasping for air until breathing stopped being a struggle.

Tubbo shifted his hold on the pawn and adjusted his tie.

“Hey, I think you guys should probably get going,” he said to the trio, smiling softly. “It’s getting late in the day, and I don’t think it’d be easy finding the place in the dark. I doubt you want to start your nation filling in creeper holes, Niki.”

“Oh god, that’s true,” she laughed. “That’s one thing I am _not_ going to miss.”

“Yeah, I mean, who’s gonna fill them all in around here when you’re gone? I’m gonna have to look up cheats and stuff, Niki! Hacks! I’m gonna have to hire people for the craters!”

“Or you could just light up the area better,” Fundy suggested, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve found that is helpful.”

Tubbo fake gasped. “Fundy, where were these ideas when you were Sexy-tary?”

“His mind is too great for us to grasp,” Ranboo muttered, clenching a fist and lowering his head solemnly. “Truly a visionary.”

“Alright, guys, Tubbo’s right, we need to get going,” Niki said, readjusting the bags on her back with a determined surety of movement.

“Fine, fine,” Fundy agreed. “But we’re wrangling a horse on the way out. There is no way in hell I am lugging all this stuff a full thousand blocks.”

“I’m going to miss you all,” Tubbo said, smile fading slightly. He set the pawn down by his side. “You’ll visit, right? I’ll see you again soon?”

Niki looked at him sympathetically and pulled him into a hug. “Yes, Tubbo, don’t worry.”

He nestled his head into the crook of her neck and allowed himself to savor this one moment. She smelled like herbs and freshly baked cookies.

“Sorry about Mushroom,” he whispered.

“Aw, Tubbo, it’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to. Honestly I’d forgotten he was still down there.” She squeezed. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay.” They drew apart. Tubbo sniffed and nodded.

Fundy seized the opportunity to wrestle Tubbo into a half hug, mussing his hair up. “You’re gonna do great, Tubbster.”

“Hey!” Tubbo broke away.

Fundy laughed and strode away to where Niki was waiting. “C’mon, Ranboo! Won’t be a nation without our, ah… wouldn’t be a nation without you!”

Ranboo looked over at the two, then down at Tubbo, face full of a poorly disguised misery, then back at Fundy and Niki. He warped from side to side, faint purple flakes lighting the air like snow. “Actually, I’ll catch up with you two in a bit!”

“Oh, okay. Are you sure?” Niki asked, tilting her head.

“Yeah, yeah. We can’t leave Tubbo with this messy chessboard.”

“It could be dangerous making your way on your own,” Fundy noted. “Not to mention really long.”

Ranboo pointed at the right side of his face and smiled sheepishly. “Perks of being part Enderman; travel’s not really a big issue.”

Fundy dipped the brim of his hat and turned tail. “Alrighty. Then we’re off!”

“Bye, Tubbo! See you later, Ranboo!” Niki waved back at them.

Ranboo awkwardly saluted.

“Bye, Niki! Bye, Fundy!” Tubbo waved back and stood tall and unwavering, as a leader should. He didn’t want their last view of his nation to be of some teary-eyed baby. “Good luck!”

He watched as the pair walked through the outskirts of L’Manberg, already falling into easy conversation. Fundy seemed more certain of himself than he had in months. His paws found easy purchase in the ground as the road transitioned to soil. Niki, despite her baggage, walked with a slight spring in her step and an undeniable determination.

Tubbo watched them as they climbed the grassy hill and kept watching until they disappeared into the shade of the forest. Then he watched only the empty buildings, silhouetted against the painfully blue sky. Sun shimmered off the windows and through the lanterns, casting warped golden kaleidoscopes onto the wooden path. A slight breeze ghosted by him. It lifted his hair for a moment then left the strands to float back down. He let his hand drop.

He turned and wearily picked up a chess piece. Ranboo worked quietly alongside him, as if hesitant to break the stillness. All in all, it hardly took more than a minute to get the pieces set up again for another round.

Ranboo spoke up brightly. “We could go for another round if you wanted?”

Tubbo puffed out a weak laugh and smiled lopsidedly. “If I’m being honest, Ranboo, I’m getting a little tired of games.”

“Totally get it, right,” Ranboo agreed.

The two stood a couple paces apart, uncertainty hanging in the air between them. Tubbo rubbed his hands idly over one of the pieces and looked around at the city-- _his_ city-- that towered haphazardly around them. Some twisted part of him reminisced about the festival, already two months gone. He came to the sad realization that it was one of the last times in a long time everyone had gathered together for a reason not related to war. He'd put his heart and soul into arranging the festivities, and everyone had _loved_ them. Sure, things hadn't turned out well, least of all for him, but people had had fun and joked about! What would it take to bring everyone together again, like in the old days?

Ranboo didn’t seem to know what to do with all his height and presence and just shifted awkwardly.

“Well, I should get--,” Ranboo started, just as Tubbo opened his mouth.

“Could you help me with the bees?”

“What?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tubbo backtracked. “it was just a thought. You should get going.”

Ranboo played with his slender hands. “No, no, it’s fine, uh, what are you suggesting?”

“Oh,” Tubbo paused and took a breath. “Well, I was thinking, if you wanted to stick around for a few minutes longer, we could check on the hives and harvest some honey? Since we built it together and all it… it just seems like a fitting send off.”

“Yeah.” Ranboo smiled encouragingly. “Yeah! That would be nice, sure.”

“Great!” Tubbo stammered out, relief seeping into his bones. Just a few more minutes with his friend. Just a few more minutes before he’s all alone with his city and his thoughts. “Yeah, that’s awesome.”

Ranboo took a few steps forward and looked back at Tubbo, whose eyes widened and he scrambled forward. “Right, right, coming.”

Ranboo laughed. “Onto the apiary!”

The two walked the short distance to the new building, making light conversation as they went. They could hear the sound of buzzing, smell the faintest floral hint on the air, even before it came into sight.

Despite himself, Tubbo felt the ball of anxiety and tension that spread from his stomach to his shoulders and chest loosen slightly at the humming. He smiled a wide, genuine smile at the sight of the flowers and bees framed by the ceiling-to-floor windows, fingers tapping by his side.

Ranboo opened the door graciously for the president, folding over into an overly dramatic bow.

“Why thank you,” Tubbo said as Ranboo closed the door behind him.

“Anytime, my good sir," Ranboo said in a mock-English accent. “I must say, we did a superb job on this place. Look at it! Incredible what a few hours and a couple of bee stings can do.”

“It’s brilliant,” Tubbo said adoringly, pulling on a pair of beekeeping gloves as though they were made of lace. He didn’t bother with the rest of the get up. He trusted the bees like they were an extension of himself, like they were guardian angels bumbling about on chitin wings. Even though it had only been constructed a couple days ago, the apiary was rapidly becoming one of his favorite places. It was never empty; he could depend on the soothing presence of the bees. He especially loved nighttime, when they would flock back to their little wooden houses, and he could hear their buzzing simmer down to a faint hum as they settled into sleep.

Tubbo opened the inner screen door reverently, breathing in the warm, pollen-laden air. Eyes closed, he tilted his head back and felt the muggy air with his fingertips.

Stepping in alongside him, Ranboo stopped for a moment too. He took in the expanse of the enclosure and shared Tubbo’s reverie. Studying the young boy standing absolutely still among the dustings of bees and looking so utterly at peace, he couldn’t fathom how the others could compare Tubbo to Schlatt. He’d never met the former president (and frankly was quite glad for that fact; he'd left behind quite the reputation) but he felt like if he had he'd still feel the same way. Conniving, manipulative, arrogant, self-obsessed, merciless… Ranboo could see none of that in his friend.

Tubbo exhaled with satisfaction and opened his eyes. “Right then,” he said, a tad bit embarrassed, and walked gently over to the nearest hive. He delicately removed the lid, minding the swarm of bees buzzing about it, and pulled out a frame, whispering sweet little nothings to the bees as he went. He surveyed it from all angles, then slid it back into place, taking out another.

Following his lead, Ranboo went to another nearby hive and copied his movements.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to harvest any honey from them yet,” Tubbo said as he examined the racks. “They haven’t been here long enough to make very much.”

“How’s this one?” Ranboo rotated a frame to face Tubbo, who shook his head.

“Not ready yet.”

“If I took a glob of it off with my finger right now, would it taste alright?” He wondered. “Or is this a sort of vanilla situation where it smells great but actually tastes really, really badly.”

Tubbo chuckled and moved on to another hive. “Be my guest."

The pair worked amicably for almost ten minutes, checking the conditions of the hives one by one. Once Ranboo got the hang of it, he moved between hives much quicker than Tubbo, who would kneel by each one, humming to himself. He’d swivel every once in a while and ask Tubbo a question about the bees or the hives, like whether the type of wood mattered, which type of bee was which, and how many bees there were per hive. Tubbo would answer each one enthusiastically, breaking from the repetition to explain various aspects of hive life, gesturing enthusiastically with his hands while Ranboo listened and nodded along.

They'd then settle into comfortable silence. All would be quiet but for the droning of the bees and the _shhfff_ of frames being slid in and out of the hives. Ranboo liked the bees’ buzzing. It felt static-y and familiar, a less harsh cousin to his own low-level clicks and crackles.

Tubbo hummed in unison with the bees. “What pitch do you think that is?”

“Hm, I don’t know.” He hummed it too. “It sounds like the start to that one, uh, that one Pentatonix song? With the weird snow decapitation thing?”

Tubbo laughed. “You’re right, you’re right. Wilbur’d know. Or well, Ghostbur, I suppose. We’ve gotta get him in here.”

“He can serenade the bees with his ghostly guitar strumming. I’m sure they’d love him with the whole black-and-yellow thing he’s got going on.”

“Totally,” Tubbo agreed, then gasped quietly. “Surely not. Ranboo, come over here and look at this.”

Ranboo slid the lid back on his hive, rose curiously, and crossed the short space over to the hive Tubbo was indicating. Like all the others, it was swarming with bees, who bustled in and out of the various entrances with a ditzy urgency, bumping into one another.

“You see this?” Tubbo asked, looking wide-eyed at the hive.

Ranboo peered carefully between the frames. “Hm, no, not really.”

Tubbo followed the streams of bees flying into the hive with his eyes, watching closely as the disparate mass of insects competed to get in with their pollen prizes. Some of them gave up and flitted away from the openings to hover in the air above the hive, where they buzzed angrily, weaving apart and together again.

“Tubbo?”

“It’s too full,” he said, brow creased. “This one has too many bees in it.”

Ranboo tilted his head quizzically.

“There’s not enough room for all of them,” Tubbo explained. “If we don’t do something soon, half the hive will leave completely, queen or no queen. We need to split the hive.”

“Well, that’s not good,” Ranboo agreed, reviewing the swarm with fresh scrutiny. “Do you want me to grab one of the leftover hives we didn’t end up using? I think we’ve got some by the entrance.”

Tubbo nodded, keeping his gaze locked on the dissolute bees. “Yes, please, Ranboo, that’d be great.” He rocked idly back and forth on his knees as Ranboo left his side. They were so fragile, these little bees, so delicate, so vulnerable. A particularly strong gust of wind could throw one completely off course. He watched as, slowly, a few more bees trailed off from the main hive and joined the group humming above.

It shouldn’t have hurt, seeing them cast aside this small wooden house he’d built them-- a glorified box, really. Logically, he knew it was only natural for living beings to leave the places they'd once called home if they stopped fitting right. Things needed space to grow. He knew it was silly and pointless to hope that they’d all just make do within the cozy confines of the hive. But under the intense humming that filled his ears and reverberated into his skull, such rationality was drowned out.

 _Not now_ , he thought, as tension crept back into his body, winding stealthily around tendon and bone. _They’re just bees_. _Not now._

Unbidden, a memory rose above the droning: Tommy, grinning brashly with a mouthful of braces, red and white shirt stained but still pristine, shouting over at him as they ran across a field. They had been building something or maybe playing some game or honestly probably both-- it didn’t matter. It didn’t. The sun was bright and the grass was soft. Tubbo slowed down to look at the flowers dotting the field and stared awestruck as a bee took off from a clump of bluets, absorbed in its languid flight.

“Tubbo like-a da bee,” Tommy teased, prodding him in the side.

Tubbo laughed and repeated the phrase in a funny voice. “I like-a da bee.”

“Tubbo like-a da bee! He like-a da bee like I like-a da women, yeah!”

“Oh, hush up,” Tubbo groaned, pushing Tommy back amidst giggles.

Tommy laughed and jogged backwards, navigating a grassy gnoll and calling back at Tubbo. “You like-a da bee! You like-a da fucking bee!”

~~~

“Tubbo?”

Tubbo blinked and looked up to see Ranboo next to him again in the apiary, muted sunlight streaming down around him. “Huh?”

“I have the hive,” he said over the buzzing and hoisted it demonstratively. “It’s got frames in it and everything. Lemme know if we need anything else.”

“No, that’ll… that’ll be fine. That’s fine. Thank you.” Tubbo forced himself to his feet and accepted the hive from Ranboo. For a moment, he forgot what he was supposed to do with it and stood there dumbly with it in his arms. “Right, um. We need to put some of the old frames into the new one so the bees recognize it. And… and we should probably check the nursery for any virgin queens, but I don’t know if I could even identify one if I tried.” He huffed. "Tommy'd get a kick out of that one."

He set the hive down and started consolidating new and old slats between the two, hyper aware of Ranboo’s gaze on his neck. The wooden frames felt heavy in his hands, whether honey-soaked and dripping or solemn, impartial, and unmarked. The honey-scented air clogged his mouth. He normally adored its fragrance, but in the midday heat of the apiary and with his face pressed up so close to its sweetness, Tubbo felt a little nauseous.

He tugged the sweaty, cloying gloves off his hands to make the business easier. He’d read up extensively on beekeeping and should’ve been thrilled to put theory into practice, but try as he might, however, he couldn’t lose himself in the repetition. It was still too new to him, and it hurt to move right now. Anxiety kept his movements tight and coordinated. Frame by aching frame, he divided up new and old between the hives, until the buzzing and the smell and the air and his thoughts got to be too much. He slowed to a halt, cradling a frame in his hands, face scrunched.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked Ranboo. He picked at the crusted edges of the honey comb and didn’t dare turn back to look at the half-Enderman’s face.

Ranboo was quiet.

“I… I know it’s not-- things aren’t great right now, and I can see why that would… dissuade you from wanting to be around… here. But you only just got here and now you’re…” He broke off. “I just don’t really get it, Ranboo. Fundy and Niki, I… I get that. They’ve been through a lot. They need a fresh start. If I could….” He shook his head. “I get them. But you’ve only just got here, Ranboo, and I--.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ranboo interjected.

“S-sorry?”

“I’m not leaving because of you or anything like that. I don’t want you thinking that.” Ranboo kneeled down on the grass next to his friend. “I just need to explore other places. It’s like you’ve said; I’m new here. I don’t have the same attachment to this place as the rest of you. I get how important it is to you, and I know you’re doing your best, and I have no doubt that L’Manberg is going to be truly impressive when it’s fully rebuilt, but right now, I just need to figure out where I’m meant to be.”

“What if you’re meant to be here?”

“Then I’ll come back, Tubbo. I’m not gonna be gone for good. I’ll be heading back and forth between Drywaters and L’Manberg and… and Logstedshire.”

Tubbo stiffened, a long strip of wax curled under his nail. He still didn’t look at Ranboo, but he couldn’t bring himself to move either, to place that goddamned frame in its place. He opened his mouth and closed it again, holding the frame closer to himself, heedless of the bees still swarming around it. He didn’t care if his suit jacket got honey on it. Fuck the suit jacket.

Tubbo squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the molasses-thick tide that suspended him like a bug in amber for the words he needed. “How is he doing?” He choked out in a tiny, strained voice. “Tommy, how, um, how is--. You’re pen pals.”

“Bad.” Ranboo answered sharply.

“Mm,” Tubbo muttered, curling in on himself. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. “Can you tell me about him.”

“Yeah, sure. What do you want to know?”

Tubbo hummed uncertainly.

“Alright. Um, well. He’s built a nice log fortress and set up a bunch of tents for himself and Dream and occasionally Ghostbur. There’s a Christmas tree there now, though its a lot smaller than the one we have here, and he’s got this….” Ranboo chuckled. “He’s got this cobblestone wall he likes to pretend is a phone so he can keep up a Snapchat streak with a ‘hot girl.’”

Tubbo snorted.

“He’s done a great job sprucing up the area-- he’s actually got this whole rustic aesthetic going, with the stripped logs and tiki torches. I’ve been keeping in touch with him and helping him gather whatever materials he needs, but…” Ranboo drew in a deep breath. There was no dancing around the issue. “Tubbo, look. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I think it’d help if you went to see him. It’d help both of you. I mean, why ask me these things when you can go see for yourself? It’d cheer him up to have his best friend around, it really would, even if, well…”

A pause. “You know, he thinks you hate him.”

Tubbo clenched his eyes further shut. “I don’t.”

“I know, and I’ve told him that, but… Dream’s been getting to him. It’s… can I be honest? It’s actually really really frightening. I’m worried.”

Ranboo didn’t add that it wasn’t just Tommy he was worried about. He looked at Tubbo with concern. The nation’s president sat curled up on the grassy floor of the apiary, a bee frame clutched tightly to his chest, nails embedded in the honeycomb, a boy in a man’s clothes. They weren’t more than two years apart, but seeing Tubbo frozen there, Ranboo couldn’t help but realize how small he was, how scared.

Tubbo clung to the frame like it was a life preserver, limbs locked in place. Through the thick scent of honey, he tried to keep his breathing steady. His vision blurred. Ranboo was waiting for a response, he _knew_ that, he knew that each second added more awkwardness and expectation to the moment. But he couldn’t get his thoughts in order. It was all he could do to stay present. Thoughts buzzed in his head, stinging him as they went, droning noisily for attention, louder and louder and louder and louder and louder until it was all he could hear, and the noise consumed him.

 _You exiled your best friend, and for what?_ Whispered a waspish voice in his mind. _An empty, ruined nation? Your people are leaving, your people have left. Your best friend is gone and he is lonely and he hates you for what you’ve done. Everyone is leaving you._

_And what have you been doing while this has been happening? Playing with tridents and losing chess matches? Building stupid, silly little buildings, even though you know they’re bound to fall like all the buildings before them?_

“I didn’t-- I had to--.”

 _You’re just like Schlatt,_ it whispered in Quackity’s voice, in Fundy’s voice, in Tommy’s voice in turn. _You’re just like Schlatt. You will never be anything more than that. Stupid fucking spy with your stupid fucking lies and your dumb, gullible obedience. Stupid fucking yes-man. How long is it before you push everyone away like he did? It’s already happening. They’re leaving you. They’re gone._

“I’m not--.” Tubbo’s voice broke and he tore a hand away from the honeycomb to muffle a sob.

_Look at the president. See how he’s fallen. Pathetic, on the floor, like his forebears before. One last life and this is how you spend it? Stupid and naive and unworthy. Your friends see you as you really are and they leave._

The frame slid from Tubbo’s hands as he clamped the other over an ear, desperate to block out the voice, to block out everything. Still, he clung to this semblance of seeming put-together, as if locked limbs and stifled sobs were put together, and held in the shuddering gasps that wracked his small frame. His face was sticky with honey from his hands and he recoiled at the sensation, but wouldn’t dare remove his hands now. The turmoil that had been threatening him from inside his chest all day swelled hungrily. Something told him that if he let himself go now, he wouldn’t be able to come back _and what would Ranboo think of him then?_

_What would Tommy think? He’d have no sympathy, of course. He hates you. Hell, there’s probably not enough of him left to be sympathetic. And why should he? Who are you to make this about you when he is out there alone and freezing and falling apart? What about this seems fucking logical to you? Stupid fucking, goddam incompetent, worthless, awful, weak, piece of shit president, piece of shit friend._

Through the haze, Tubbo dimly registered that Ranboo was speaking, but he couldn’t make out any of the words not when his head was rushing so, not when his _stomach was torn open in a grisly star-shaped mess of blood and intestines and burns and there are lights everywhere, going off, and smoke, and you can’t breath, and there’s too much noise, and you fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked up, you can’t move, and nononononononono not now not until he leaves_

_and there’s Tommy, gaunt and angry because you did this to him and_

_it coats your hands while_

_the high whine of explosives fills your ears and you_

_you are_

He was gone. The voices crescendo into a throttling tidal wave of awful, painful, viscous, insensible _sensation_. And he was gone.

~~~

When Ranboo tentatively put his arms around Tubbo’s trembling frame some time later, he didn’t register it. His body reacted, jerking violently with an instinct born of necessity, but if he sensed his friend’s presence, it was distorted by the thick golden sludge, by the stinging.

The young half-Enderman hesitated, pulled back, and gently tried again. He wrapped his long arms around Tubbo, delicately at first, then with purpose. _People need anchors when they’re like this_ , he knew. He eased more pressure onto Tubbo and held him close.

Space was… difficult for Ranboo. Staying in place, that was. By nature, he needed movement and activity. He’d owe it to his Enderman blood, if he had any blood to speak of, but he couldn’t deny how much of it came from simple curiosity. There one moment, gone the next, onto newer, more exciting things. He liked being where the action was, even if he could only take notes. And he enjoyed the feeling of teleportation, how fizzy it made him feel, how light. It made him a bit impulsive, sure, the power at his fingertips, a bit flighty, yet he relished the freedom it gave him. The more places he could be at once, the more friends he could make, and the more people would like him.

Slowly, Ranboo coaxed Tubbo out of his kneeling position until the president was slumped against him. Tubbo let out a sharp gasp at the shift.

“Oh, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Ranboo said quickly. “Just thought this might be more comfortable. Is this alright?”

Tubbo buried his head into Ranboo’s shirt.

“Ah, I’ll take that as a yes then.” He started running his fingers through Tubbo’s dark hair, brushing it behind his ears and rubbing smooth circles over his scalp with his thumb. The boy shivered at the touch, and Ranboo felt some of the tension drain out of his body.

Ranboo sighed and leaned back on one hand, gazing around the apiary. The high glass panes were steamy and beaded with moisture. Combined with the sunlight, it gave the room the appearance of being completely cut off from the outside world. He sat there for a while, soaking in the sights and holding the shaking Tubbo close.

“I could try and teleport you, if you wanted,” he suggested eventually. “If it’s too much in here. The riverbank shouldn’t be too much a stretch.” He looked back down at Tubbo and reconsidered. “Hm, no, that probably wouldn’t be for the best, would it? It can be pretty disorienting for those who aren’t used to it. Let’s just stay here, hm? The bees won’t hurt us. And it’s so peaceful.”

Tubbo made a small noise into Ranboo’s jacket.

“What?”

He didn’t repeat himself.

“Alright, that’s fine! Don’t sweat it.” Ranboo moved his hand in calming circles over Tubbo’s back. “Y’know, I’m really impressed by the flower varieties we’ve got in here. You’ve got your common dandelions and poppies, but you’ve also got those blue orchids you find out by the marshlands and those peony bushes they’ve got all throughout the forests. And some tulips! Those can’t have been easy to get a hold of. What we really need are some of those purple-y puffball ones.”

“... Allium?” Came the muted suggestion.

Ranboo blinked and continued on. “Yeah, yeah, those ones. And what about sunflowers? Those would look really nice. Or roses, a classic!”

Tubbo shook his head.

“No roses?”

Tubbo shifted his head to the side and cleared his throat weakly, his voice coming out barely a whisper. “Normal ones are okay. Not primroses though.”

“I take it they’re not great for bees?”

Tubbo nodded mutely.

“They like sunflowers though, right?”

Another nod.

“Huh, okay then. … Do bees have a catnip flower? Like one they just really can’t get enough of?”

“Mm… lilacs.” Tubbo gingerly outstretched a hand to toy with a nearby dandelion. “These.”

“Yeah?” Ranboo encouraged.

“Mhm. Lavender.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the swollen golden petals. “Foxgloves. Uh, mint.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Can’t remember the rest.”

“Pretty impressive fucking list as is.” The half-Enderman grinned. “Tell you what, I’ll try and grab some of those for you next time I’m out on my way to Drywater or Logstedshire. I might need a plant identification guide or something though. You can do a little sketch in my notebook.”

Tubbo let out a breathy laugh. “That’d be pretty pog.”

“Hell yeah it would! You can be one of those naturalist presidents like Theodore Roosevelt.”

“...Isn’t that the guy in Night At the Museum?”

Ranboo chuckled. “Yeah.”

They lapsed into silence.

~~~

Tubbo breathed steadily in and out and absentmindedly observed the swaying of the grass as he slowly but surely wandered back to himself. The grating roar in his mind settled back into a mellow hum. Though he ached all over, he felt some sliver of relief. He was safe. He was in the apiary, where it was warm and fragrant and secluded, and he was with a friend. Tubbo pushed himself up, ignoring the way his body protested at being so suddenly unmoored, and shifted over so that he could lean against a support beam and face Ranboo. He wiped his face off, clearing his bleary eyes and rubbing away the honey. He straightened officially.

“I’ll go see him,” Tubbo decided aloud. He clenched the grass next to him into a fist.

“... Theodore Roosevelt?”

Tubbo pushed Ranboo lightly. “No, dummy, Tommy!”

“Okay, good, ‘cause otherwise I was about to deliver some real tough news about good old Mr. Roosevelt,” Ranboo laughed but quickly sobered up, looking at Tubbo intensely. “Hey, seriously though, that’s a good idea, Tubbo. I get the feeling time’s running out. You can come with me when I check the mailbox tomorrow if you want.”

Tubbo exhaled gratefully, his shoulders relaxing. “Thanks, big man, I’d really appreciate that.” He shook his head. “Tomorrow doesn’t work though. I’ll tag along a few days from now, depending on how things go.”

“Depending on how things go?”

Tubbo blanched and trailed off. “Um, yes. Just something in the works. Scheduling stuff. Presidential duties and whatnot.”

Ranboo eyed Tubbo and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like how Tubbo was skirting around the question, but he knew better than to push it right now.

“Okay then. Good luck.”

“Oh, thanks.” He smiled cautiously. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, I get it,” Ranboo said, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe in a couple months I’ll get it even more, eh?”

Tubbo snorted. “Honestly, you’re more than welcome to the office come February. Just the past few weeks have been… well.” He sighed. “He’ll be okay if I wait a few more days to visit, right?”

“Well,” Ranboo mused, “it’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Tubbo gave a small half-smile. “True." He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Y’know, I’m actually looking forward to seeing him. Nervous, sure, cause he's probably pissed as hell, but excited. It’s been really, really hard not having him around. Quackity makes a fantastic VP but--.” All of a sudden, Tubbo bolted upright. “Wait, what time is it? Ranboo, have you got the time?”

“Uh.” He checked his watch. “A little past 3?”

Tubbo's stomach dropped. “Shit,” He swore, clambering to his feet. He hastily adjusted his collar and jacket. “I’m supposed to be meeting with Quackity now about-- about planning stuff. It’s not like he’s ever really on time anyways, so it’s probably alright, but still it’s just not a good look to be late to your own meeting.” He made a noise of frustration.

Ranboo rose, off-balance from this sudden change of pace. “Oh, right, wow was that a turn-around.” He strode alongside Tubbo. “Well, punctuality is important! You’re gonna rock this business meeting.”

“Mhm,” Tubbo hummed, fidgeting with his tie as he walked towards the door, brow furrowed. “I’m so sorry to leave like this, especially after…” He grimaced. “Sorry, I just really need to get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, you’re a busy man. I have to catch up with Fundy and Niki anyways.”

Tubbo nodded and pushed the inner screen door open. As he started to open the outer glass door, Ranboo grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Wait, one moment, Tubbo. I wanted to ask this a little earlier, but there was never a conversational ‘in’, and it just feels like an insensitive thing to ask in general.”

Tubbo looked back with concern. “What’s up?”

“What happened there, Tubbo… does that happen often?”

Tubbo’s face instantly shuttered off. He avoided Ranboo’s eyes (which was just fine by him). Finally, he simply said, “Being president’s a stressful job.”

“That’s not an answer--."

“-- Fine, yes, sometimes,” he conceded tersely. “Does that answer your question?”

Ranboo removed his hand. "Uh, yeah?"

Tubbo’s face filled with regret. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. I just…” He pinched his brow and sighed deeply. He stood like this for a moment, one hand on the door, the other covering his eyes. When he looked up again, he’d schooled his face into a tired, but amicable mask. “Thanks for everything. Seriously. I’m glad to have you, Ranboo.”

“Yeah, no, I get it, anytime.” Ranboo offered an understanding smile in response. "It's been nice spending time with you."

The president smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His mind had already turned to thoughts of lists and pigs and _no going back_. "I need to go. See you in a bit." He tightened his tie and pushed through the door, leaving the aromatic, homey embrace of the apiary behind. “Tell Tommy I say hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm proud to say that this is actually the first fic I've ever finished and posted (my google docs graveyard doesn't count)
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment if this made you feel Emotion(s)! 
> 
> I hope you have a great day. Please remember to take care of yourself and treat yourself with kindness. You deserve it. :)


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